Where Is Love?
by Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful
Summary: For a long time, a connection has existed between two students: the popular Boltoner and the quiet blonde. When they end up in the same form, what will happen? Will their relationship remain stable? And what will the pretty brunette called Giovanna in the blonde's year mean for them? Read on to discover this and much more...Flones, some Pudd, multi-chaptered.
1. Chapter 1

**Ah yes. This is dedicated to kbeto, who said he needed more Flones! This will be multi-chaptered, and there will be homosexual shenanigans (not like explicit, just making out and stuff), so um yes. Rated T for perviness and swearing, there is Flones and Pudd (though Pudd isn't the main focus of the story). I currently have about five chapters written, but more will be written, I promise!**

* * *

Danny couldn't quite believe his luck. It was barely an hour into the first day back of school, and already someone, somewhere had done something good for him. Admittedly, it wasn't deliberate and was probably more to do with the fact that the alphabet goes F-G-H-I-J, but it was still pretty awesome. He kept sneaking glances to his left, where the bored looking teenager, only a year older than himself, was absent-mindedly writing down the notes to a song. Danny hummed them very quietly and noticed with a smile that the song was 'Don't Stop Me Now'.

* * *

In his school, forms were arranged by some strange algorithm, not by year nor house. In each form there would be five or six from each year, with surnames usually from around a block of about five letters. As such, you would end up mixing with people you didn't know a lot more, and it was meant to encourage inter-year relations. All it really caused was mini civil wars. For example, when Danny had been in Year 7, the 7's, 8's and 9's had gotten into some ferocious argument with the 10's, 11's and sixth formers which had ended with one of the Year 8 girls getting badly beaten up. The next year, he'd been in a science room for form with entirely different people, and he had lost count of the amount of hair burnt on bunsen burners, ties stained with spilled chemicals and eyes hurt by being tricked into looking directly at burning magnesium. Last year, Danny's form had been unusually small, only 24 people, and there had been a little more harmony. This was also partially due to the fact that his form tutor that year was a miserable old witch who screamed constantly and awarded detentions at every excuse. Finally, though, one person had flicked paint at another (the benefits of an art room) and a full on art resources war had sprouted up, ending with 24 very mucky people being sent to the headmaster, and leaving with multiple detentions and a card they had to hand to each teacher which they had to sign at the end of each lesson to say that they'd been good. Failure to gain 23/25 signatures in the week the card was assigned for (five lessons per day, not including form) lead to suspension.

"Danny!"

The voice made Danny lift his head and glance around – there, he saw a friend of his, Harry.

"Mate!" Danny grabbed Harry into a hug, ignoring the yell from the teacher for Harry to sit down. Harry slid into the spare chair on the other side of Danny before whispering,

"Is that the Year 11 that you've got the hots for?"

Danny blushed right to the tips of his ears before nodding slightly. He was normally confident when he liked people – approaching with a smile, a wink and a charming word – but this was different. The mere sight of the mysterious blonde boy sent him hot.

* * *

The first day of term was spent in form, getting all the necessary equipment: homework planners, timetables, that sort of stuff. As such, Danny had plenty of time to pluck up his courage. Or he would have done, at least, had Harry not interfered.

"Hey, you!" Harry had suddenly called. The blonde boy glanced in their direction, and for the first time Danny noticed his deliciously warm brown eyes. Brown like the skies of a comic book apocalyptic sky, brown like the final shot of whiskey, brown like a hot mug of coffee on an icy day. Glittering, inviting.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, ignoring the frantic kick from Danny under the desk.

"Tom." he replied, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"What notes are you writing?"

"Um, just the chorus to Don't Stop Me-"

"Cool! Danny likes Queen, don't you?" Harry grinned at Tom then at Danny, before elbowing Danny and edging away.

"Sorry about my friend." Danny apologised, entranced by Tom. Tom stared at him for a moment before dropping his eyes.

"No worries."

Silently, Danny cursed at his missed opportunity.

* * *

About a week later, their form tutor (a funny, loud woman who taught English) announced,

"Today we're going to be doing some PSHE. I need you to get into pairs, please."

Harry immediately slid away from Danny and towards Dougie, a Year 8 that he had chatted with a few times and liked tremendously as a friend. Tom glanced around, looking concerned: he didn't particularly get on with anyone in his year that was in his form.

"Can I go with you?" Danny asked him with a little smile. Tom nodded, looking immensely relieved that he was with someone.

"Today we're going to be doing trust exercises. Both members of each pair, stand up."

They did so, all looking a little confused.

"Now, the oldest of each pair stand about three feet in front of the youngest."

They obeyed. Danny blushed once more when he noticed Tom's bum, round and peachy and beautifully defined by his black school trousers.

"The person at the front has to let themselves fall backwards, while the person at the back needs to catch them."

There was a moment of silence before people began to talk a little. A few people who were with trusty friends let themselves drop straight away, while others took a moment to position themselves.

"How do I do it?" Danny desperately asked Tom. Tom laughed.

"Just stick your arms out and make sure I fall into them – bend at the knee a bit as well. Don't knee me in the arse, though!"

Danny did so, and was relieved when Tom landed straight in his arms. Tom glanced up at Danny, and they held eye contact for just a second longer than what would be considered normal, before breaking away. Tom stood up.

"Now, swap positions and do the same again."

Tom's warm, strong arms caught Danny and then shifted him into standing position again, and he couldn't help but notice how soft and comfortable Tom's hold was. Tom's strength surprised him as well – he easily pushed Danny back into standing. Danny felt himself drop suddenly over the edge of a cliff and fall into a pit of love.

* * *

Danny had first spotted Tom the previous year, in the middle of a music lesson. He'd been sat strumming at his guitar in one of the three practise rooms, listening to what his teacher was telling him, when the door opened and in came this cute boy, who managed to make the ugly school uniform strangely sexy.

"Hey, sir, is it okay if I take my guitar home tonight? I've promised I'll show my sister how to do some chords..." the boy's voice trailed off when he saw Danny, one hand lazily resting on the fret and the other on the top of the guitar.

"Yes, of course – knock next time, though!"

Tom, or 'the boy' as Danny had called him for almost a year, blushed as he picked up a beautiful mahogany coloured guitar from the corner of the room and sloped out again. After that, Danny had kept his eye out for the boy, and Tom had done the same. While neither realised it, that day had sparked a strange fascination with each other that wouldn't easily be satisfied.


	2. Chapter 2

Although Tom was quiet and rather unpopular and Danny was loud and had a fairly large group of mates, a tentative friendship had sprung up between them. The half an hour of form every day quickly became a time when they would swap musical compositions and songs they had written, and would discuss the latest guitars and instruments released. Harry, who watched their progress like a hawk and firmly advised Danny on what he should do and say, grabbed Danny aside before English one day.

"Dan!"

"Yeah?" Danny glanced up from the homework he was hastily completing.

"How are you and Mr Cutie getting on?" Harry asked, grinning widely. Danny sighed.

"We're getting on well, but I don't think he _likes _me."

Harry snorted. "You sound like the problem page of a gossip magazine."

Danny punched Harry in the arm, but a smile cracked his face apart. "Shut it, mate. What should I do?"

"Invite him over for dinner." Harry immediately suggested. "Or ask him into town with you."

Just then, the door to the classroom was opened and there was no more time to talk.

* * *

"Hey Tom!" Danny grinned as he shoved his bag on the floor and slid into his usual seat beside Tom.

"Hi Danny." Tom replied, smiling widely. "I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come to mine one day and play some guitar together?" Tom suddenly asked, the words tripping headily out of his mouth.

Danny stared at him. The exact same sentence had been rolling on the tip of his tongue, ready to come out. "Yeah, sure! When d'ya want me?" he replied.

"You can come tomorrow if you want." Tom offered. Danny couldn't help but notice that the tips of his friend's ears were turning pink.

* * *

It had been yesterday night that Tom had been verbally beaten into asking Danny over by Dougie. Dougie had been good friends with Tom since the previous year, when they had also been in the same form together, and Dougie had decided to befriend Harry in an effort to keep up with the blossoming friendship between Danny and Tom. He passed on any information he could wean out of the vigilant Harry to the lovestruck Tom, who lapped it up eagerly. They had been hanging out, indifferent to the age gap between them, when Dougie had suddenly asked,

"How are you and Danny getting on?"

"He's really cool! He plays guitar _so _well – I snuck in on his guitar lesson yesterday and said that I needed to write a song for my GCSE and just needed a corner of the room. He could play really-"

"No, but how are you _getting on_?" Dougie asked with a wicked grin. "How far have you gone with him? French? Feel? Finger? Fu-"

"No!" Tom exclaimed. "I haven't even seen him outside of school!"

"It's October, dude, and you're sixteen this coming July. What are you playing at!" Dougie exclaimed, before laughing. "Of course, me being twelve, nearly thirteen, me and Harry have only-"

"I don't need to know!" Tom stared at Dougie, torn between amusement and disgust.

"Look, dude, you _need _to ask him out." Dougie said firmly, grinning a little at the aghast expression which had yet to vacate Tom's sweet face.

"I can't ask him out – he'll say no, I bet he will."

"He likes you, you idiot! Harry's told me that he's madly in love with you, dude. Take a chance on it!"

Tom gnawed at his lip, fiddling with the plectrum in his hands. "Are you sure he won't say no?"

"Yes, absolutely."  
"I'll ask him over to mine to play guitar, then." Tom decided, and for the rest of the evening he wouldn't discuss Danny at all.

* * *

Danny sat on one of the benches by the back exit to the school, waiting patiently for Tom. He had been bursting to tell someone about his 'date', and in the end had had a long conversation with his mum about his sexuality and Tom. His mum had been really excited for him, and had even given him money to "Buy something nice for Tom!" with. He'd purchased a packet of guitar strings, which every guitarist needs.

"Hey."

Danny jumped as the gentle voice appeared right beside him. He glanced up and saw Tom, ready to go.

"Hi Tom."

"Are you ready to go? I love your guitar, by the way."

Danny jumped up and the two began to walk the mile or so to Tom's house, chatting quietly as they went. They talked about everything: music (they both loved it), art (Tom could do it, Danny couldn't), literature (Tom was a voracious reader, Danny had barely touched a book in his life)...anything that they had an opinion on, they talked about.

"Have you heard of fanfiction?" Tom asked.

"No, what is it?"

"It's when people write about books or movies that have been made and make up their own stories. There's loads of Star Trek fanfiction."

"That's so weird!" Danny replied. "Aint characters copyrighted or something?"

"That's not all." Tom grinned. "Sometimes they write about _real people._"

"That's weird, mate. People who write it must be messed up."

Tom laughed, and made a note to himself not to let Danny anywhere near the text files on his computer.

* * *

When Tom and Danny arrived at Tom's house, it was quiet.

"Sorry that no one is in – my sister's in Les Miserables right now, and my mum and dad are at work."

"Your sister's in Les Miserables?!"

"Yeah. She's good at acting – I did some myself when I was younger. I was in Oliver."

Suddenly, a dim memory rose to the front of Danny's mind: when he was nine or so, going to see Oliver on the West End and feeling a strange urge to find the blonde boy who played Oliver and make friends with him. In the program, his name was listed as 'Tom Fletcher'.

"Tom!"

"Yeah?" Tom laughed.

"You're Tom Fletcher!"

"Well done, mate."

"You were my Oliver!" Danny exclaimed, and then blushed furiously.

"Your Oliver?" Tom questioned, smiling coyly at the expression on Danny's pinkened face.

"I saw you, when you were Oliver...I still have the program!"

Tom grinned. "What a coincidence!"

As Tom fetched Coke and cookies, Danny couldn't help but think, _Maybe we're destiny._

* * *

"Life is getting harder day by day. I don't know what to do or what to say."

Danny's strong voice and nimble fingers made the song sound beautiful to Tom's sharpened ears. Danny was _good_. Very good. He could do all kinds of stuff on the guitar, stuff that Tom was certain he would never be able to do. The smell of fresh sweat was present in the room after the two had shared a mad jamming session to a Queen album. Sunshine beamed in through Tom's window, soaking the room in elegant warmth. The room was pleasantly messy, in the kind of 'lived in and loved' way.

"I'm not alone..." Tom and Danny's eyes met as Danny sang the final line of the song, and Tom was filled with a strong urge to kiss Danny. Danny had ideas closer to 'ravage then ravage again', but he kept them to himself. He was only fourteen coming on fifteen. For some bizarre reason, he started thinking about the worn Bolton Wanderer's wallpaper which graced his bedroom. Originally from Bolton, they had moved up to London several years previous. Danny hadn't lost his strong accent, however. Tom, meanwhile, had lived in London his entire life and simply had plain blue walls, with photographs and letters stuck all over the place with blue tack. As they sat together, Danny reached out and took Tom's hand into his own. There they remained for a long while, silently sitting together with their hands connected.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom sighed with frustration as he typed and retyped the simple MSN message to Danny.

_'Will you go out with me?'_

_'will u go out wth me?'_

_'Can we go out?'_

_'We should go out together.'_

_'We should go out with each other.'_

_'Hey Dan, I was wondering if you'd go out with me.'_

Nothing seemed right. Nothing. He couldn't decide how to ask him, and he knew that he would crumble if he tried to do it in real life instead of over the internet. Wincing, he brushed his fingers over the chunky computer keys and decided to stop trying until the next day. He needed a few hours to gather his thoughts together and calm down. Tom sighed as he turned the computer off and gathered his towel and shower gel together: today had been a long day.

* * *

Meanwhile, Danny was curled up on his bed at home, softly murmuring the words to a song that Tom had taught him and trying not to let the tears escape from his clear blue eyes. That evening had been amazing. Their hands had been pressed together, two calloused, guitar-player hands, until they'd heard the door open. Then, they had sprung apart, almost guiltily in their speed.

"Do you want to meet my mum before dinner?" Tom had asked, avoiding Danny's gaze, and seeming relieved when Danny nodded. Danny had worked his sweet charm on Mrs Fletcher, and she had absolutely loved him. Carrie, Tom's sister, had barely noticed Danny as she chattered away about the theatre, acting and singing. Dinner came shortly after Mr Fletcher – a friendly man who Danny could strike a conversation up with easily – arrived home. Then, Danny left almost immediately, blushing.

"Bye, Dan." Tom had quietly said, still ducking his head down.

"Bye, Tom. See ya tomorrow." had been Danny's disheartened reply.

Danny had had the chance and he had failed to take action. He thought of Harry and managed to crack a smile – Harry would go absolutely mental at him.

* * *

"_This seating plan will remain in place until I am certain you will behave well if you sit with your friends. You're new students at this school, and we have no impressions of you yet. A clean slate. You can sink or swim." The teacher was a small woman with a plump figure and greying brown hair. Danny glanced at the kid next to him, some boy named Harry Judd, and smiled as he saw he was imitating the teacher's rather grating voice._

"_Now, I want you to introduce yourself to everyone on your table."_

_A girl called Georgia who liked clothes, a girl who's name escaped Danny who liked horses and Harry, who said he loved cricket and pranks._

"_I love my guitar and pranks. I'm, uh, Danny, by the way." Danny had grinned. The two girls had started to chatter about something, so Danny turned to Harry._

"_A'ight, mate?" Danny asked. Harry looked at him with surprise._

"_What?" he asked, eyes wide._

"_You alright, mate?" Danny clarified, grinning at the new boy with the posh accent._

"_Um, yes. Are you?" Harry replied._

"_Yeah. I mean, I hate Science, but..." Danny's voice trailed off when he realised everyone else had gone quiet. Harry gave a little laugh, which set Danny off. Approximately five minutes into the first proper lesson at their Secondary school, they were sent out of the room. They were immediate best friends. While they were standing there, a messenger from the year above them came along, looking angelic with his shiny blonde hair and chocolatey brown eyes. Since Year 7's didn't know their way around the school and Years 9, 10 and 11 were doing GCSE's, for one day in Year 8 each pupil would be a messenger along with another pupil from their House, and would spend the whole day delivering notices instead of doing lessons. The boy walked into their classroom, and came out a moment later._

"_Which of you is Harry?" he had asked. Harry had given a nod._

"_You need to come with me to the main office – your mum has dropped off your PE kit."_

_The blonde boy had gone off with Harry, and Harry had returned a couple of minutes later._

"_That Tom is nice."_

* * *

Danny sat up straight when he realised who the angelic blonde prefect had been. Tom! His Oliver, his new friend, his guitar buddy. Was that wretched boy in every one of his memories? How had he not realised it before? Filled with renewed vigour, Danny went out the – thankfully, free – computer which sat on a desk on the landing, opened up MSN and sent a message to Tom.

'_Hey Tom. I rlly luved tnite. Go out wth me?'_

Gulping, Danny pressed the send button. Just as he did, Tom's online symbol disappeared. Damn! Danny didn't have Tom's phone number, so he couldn't call him. The only form of contact outside of school he had with Tom was MSN. Damnit, why hadn't he sent it just a moment earlier?! Danny cursed himself aloud.

"Someone's angry." he heard the voice, and looked up to see his sister.

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"There is, Dan. Don't be daft."

"I sent someone a message just as they went offline, and if they don't see it before school tomorrow, it'll be really awkward."

She laughed. "Yeah, I've been in that position before. Is it some girl?" She paused. "Or a boy?"

After Danny's conversation with his mum, he had quickly told his sister that he was bisexual. She'd nodded. "I thought so." she'd said. "Remember, everyone can see the internet history."

Danny had blushed hard. He blushed again now at the memory. "It's a guy. He's amazing."

She smiled and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, Danny. It'll all work out in the end, you'll see."

* * *

The next morning, Tom opened up MSN, ready to send Danny a message. He saw, however, the flash that indicated a message. He glanced at it, then did a double take and re-read it. His jaw dropped. Danny had asked HIM out. Grinning, he quickly typed,

'_Yes please! Lol'_

Adding the 'lol' felt weird, but without it it looked incredibly awkward. He smiled. He would see Danny in just over five hours, between fourth lesson and lunch. Only for half an hour, but still. A message from Danny arrived.

_'Do u wanna meet b4 school?'_

_'Yeah, okay. Where?'_

_'By the crnr shop by school? In 10 mins?'_

_'Give me 15, I'll be there. X'_

_'x'_

Danny went offline.

Tom began to cry with happiness before shifting his bag onto his bag and dashing out of the door without a word to his family.


	4. Chapter 4

Twisting his fingers around the single Mars bar he had bought, Danny sat on top of the bin outside of the corner shop, a whole hour early for school. In the distance, he could see the now familiar loping figure of Tom, seeming to be walking more rapidly than usual. When he looked up and saw Danny, he half-waved before increasing his pace even further. When he was just metres away, he called out,

"Hey, Dan!"

Danny jumped down, and without realising it, they had both broken out into a run. They ran straight into each other, hugging the other boy close to their own chest.

"Thank you." Tom suddenly said, right into Danny's ear.

"You what?"

"I was going to ask you out, but I didn't have the balls. So I went offline. I must have missed your message by a second..."

Danny, who at that stage was a couple of inches shorter than Tom, leant up and kissed Tom right on the tip of his nose, which made him laugh. In response, Tom kissed Danny's forehead. Moments later, they both attacked each other's lips, kissing hungrily, seemingly searching each other's lips for some hidden word.

"Oi!"

The two broke apart and glanced in the direction of the shout to see their headmaster, getting out of his car.

"What, sir?" Danny cheekily called out.

"That is _totally inappropriate _when you're in school uniform!"

In a moment of daring, Danny reached out and pulled off Tom's clip-on tie, winking at the older, taller boy.

"Go and kiss somewhere not near the school!" the headmaster, a short, weedy, grumpy man, shouted. Giggling, Danny grabbed Tom's hand and the two began to run.

* * *

"You've no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you." Danny said. The two had run to a playpark which was situated only five minutes walk or two minutes run away from the school, and were now sat on a bench together – Danny sat upright, Tom lying with his head in his lap.

"I've thought you were cute ever since I first saw you when I was in Year 8."

"I thought you were a goody-goody snob when I saw you when you were a messenger." Danny admitted, laughing. "I liked you when I saw you in Oliver, though."

"I really am your Oliver, now." Tom grinned, grabbing one of Danny's hands and resting it on his own chest. Danny blushed.

"Should we keep it low-key at school?" Danny asked, looking directly into the eyes that he had fallen in love with.

"I think we should tell Dougie and Harry. I know that Dougie's been rooting for us since the start of September, and I think he's been sharing information with Harry for a while as well." Tom replied.

"What about everyone else?"

"I think maybe we should just act like we would naturally as a...couple." Tom stopped to grin up at Danny, who smiled back and absent-mindedly brushed a bit of hair from Tom's face, "And if people work it out, fine. I came out last year."

"I haven't really told anyone except for Harry." Danny admitted. "They'll guess pretty soon, though!"

And thus, another make-out session began.

* * *

Dougie actually _screamed _when he saw Danny and Tom walk through the school gates holding hands. He was sat with Harry on one of the odd benches dispersed across the school grounds when he saw them.

"Look Harry, look!" he'd exclaimed. "Flones has sailed!"

Tom laughed at the word 'Flones'. "Is that our name now? Flones?"

"Yeah! Just like me and Harry are Pudd. Duh." Dougie replied, with a wink and a grin. Danny snorted with laughter, as did Harry.

"Who asked who?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I asked Tom." Danny said, smiling widely. He leant in closer to Tom, and the two each gained an even wider smile than before. Sometimes, you will see a couple when you are shopping or buying Christmas presents or just walking down the street, and you will be enraptured by their rapport. They will seem so fluidly perfect. At that moment, should you have observed them, Tom and Danny would have fitted that description perfectly.

* * *

"Oi, fags!"

The call followed Danny and Tom's figures at lunch, coming from a particularly offensive group of bullies in Tom's year. A mixture of chavs and losers, neither Tom nor Danny cared what they said. However, when it was repeated over and over again for half an hour, it became more than a little taxing. Their theory was that if they ignored them, they would go away. So far, it wasn't working.

"Oi, Fletcher! Do you like taking it up the arse, Fletcher?" shouted the ringleader of the little gang. As if in answer to the offensive question, Tom turned to face Danny and kissed him briefly, before they continued walking.

"What's your little boyfriend called, Tommy?" asked another, a girl wearing a very rough approximation of the uniform.

"Cocksucker McBolton!" said another, and a great shout of laughter ran through the small crowd of idiots.

"Ignore them." Tom muttered, his hand clenching Danny's hard.

"I am." replied Danny. "But I'm really fucking mad."

"Don't worry, dude." Tom soothingly replied, quietly so that the crowd wouldn't hear.

"Cocksucker and Theatre Nerd! What a perfect match!"

Danny snapped. He wasn't one to initiate fights, nor was he one to really argue. He was by far the most affable out of the sudden foursome of friends that he had become part of. The mistreatment of Tom angered him more than the cruelty towards himself.

"What the fuck do you think you're saying, you fucking twats?" Danny shouted, spinning around to face them. Tom blanched, picturing the violent response from the crowd.

"Oh, so we're the fucking twats? You're the one fucking that loser, you faggot." replied the leader. Suddenly, Danny ran at him and punched him straight in the face. Tom immediately ran after him and grabbed him, trying to pull him away from the crowd. However, the leader lunged back and hit Danny, and Tom was so blinded by rage that he let go of Danny and let him fight. The crowd began to circle around the boys as they fought, somehow knocked to the floor with their fists. Danny was winning easily: despite the ringleader's filthy mouth, he was weak and fairly small. He did get in a few good hits, though. Tom lunged forward and once more tried to grab Danny, but Danny brushed him off.

"What on _earth is _going on here?" a sudden voice exclaimed. The crowd drew away like curtains to reveal Mrs Gregory, a member of the Senior Leadership Team who was known to most students as 'scary bitch'. The ringleader, who had somehow managed to roll on top of Danny, scrambled off of him, and the two stood up. They looked very sorry for themselves – Danny's nose was bleeding heavily, and his arms were covered in scratches. The ringleader had a split in his lip and was clutching his arm. It wasn't broken – Danny had just managed to get a furious, well-aimed punch in, right onto the funny bone. There wasn't anything remotely funny about the situation.

"Tom, what happened?" Mrs Gregory asked. She knew that Tom was a good boy, very trustworthy, just as she knew the entire crowd were incredibly untrustworthy.

"These people were following me and Dan, calling us offensive terms and making fun of us, and eventually Dan snapped and punched him. Then they started fighting." Tom stiffly said.

"Tom, Danny, Michel, come with me." she instructed. "The rest of you, don't sit too comfortably."

The crowd melted away like ice while the three boys followed the most terrifying member of staff possible.

* * *

"Danny, what exactly do you allege Michel said to you?" Mrs Gregory asked, once the two injured boys had been sorted out.

"He called me a, um, bleep-sucker, and he called my _boyfriend, _Tom, a Theatre Nerd. Plus he was asking really horrible questions, and calling us fags, and faggots. He was being really homophobic, miss. I snapped. I was – um – provoked!" he replied, his fingers straying to his sore nose.

"Okay. You threw the first punch?"

"Yes."

"Had they done anything physical to you or Tom?"

"They were throwing stones after us, and they were following us."

"Let me get this straight – these boys and girls were being so offensive just because you and Tom are, ahem, together?"

"Yes."

"If Tom agrees with your story when I interview him, you may well be mostly out of trouble, Danny. We don't encourage fighting, but strictly off the record I think what you did to Michel was perfectly deserved."

Danny grinned: maybe she wasn't a scary bitch after all.

"Are you going to talk to Michel?"

"Yes, of course. Now, one last question."

"Yeah?"

"Did anyone else that you know witness any of it?"

Danny thought hard and then remembered with a triumphant grin: they had passed Dougie and Harry, who _must _have seen the stone throwing and the catcalling, as well as a girl in Tom's year who Danny was vaguely familiar with called Giovanna Falcone, who seemed quite sweet.

"Yes. Dougie Poynter and Harry Judd. They saw some of it. And Giovanna Falcone did."

She nodded, quickly scribbling down names. Then, she looked up at Danny and smiled.

"If I were you, Danny, I'd feel confident. I'm dealing with this whole thing, and while I might be Mrs I don't live with any man, if you get my gist. Homophobia is a _very _serious issue to me."

Danny smiled at her, and she laughed. "Now go to your lesson, you silly little scrapper! You might get called out, but don't worry. It'll just be to tell you that you've got a detention or two for fighting. Nothing major."

He nodded. "Thanks, miss."

"That's quite alright. Send Tom in on your way, will you?"

* * *

When the statements of Thomas Fletcher, Dougie Poynter, Harry Judd and Giovanna Falcone had been taken, Michel was also spoken to. He vehemently denied all charges put against him, but when he was told that two people in his gang had told her that it was true (which was a lie), he cracked and confessed he had done it.

"Why, Michel?" she had asked, looking at him with a mixture of sadness and disgust.

"Because gay people are _gross._" Michel explained. Mrs Gregory stared at him.

"Get out." she spat. He stared at her.

"You heard what I said, get out!"

Michel escaped, with the uneasy feeling that he had just purchased a ticket to trouble.


	5. Chapter 5

Danny's fate was two one-hour detentions for fighting and hurting another pupil. Michel was much more harshly punished: a week long suspension and another week of detentions every day after school. Of course, this served to provoke and enrage him, but his cronies seemed to have turned against him as well. Michel wandered around school by himself, while Danny and Tom were able to be a cute couple without interference.

"I kind of feel sorry for Michel." Tom said to Harry one day. "I mean, he is a dick and what he did to me and especially Danny wasn't called for at all, but he's got no friends or anything now."

"Tom, I know that you are a very kind, forgiving person, but don't try and pull a 'yay friendship' gig with him." Harry replied. Dougie and Danny had both been kept back by different teachers for some misdemeanour, so Harry and Tom were alone together for the first time. They found that they could hold truly intelligent conversations together, and it was rather pleasant.

"Don't worry, I won't!" Tom laughed. "I just mean that it's a shame all of his friends left him."

* * *

Later that day, Danny and Tom were sitting together in Danny's room when Tom brought up the subject of the fight.

"Dan, I'm sorry that you got hurt on my behalf." Tom quietly said.

"Don't worry about it." Danny replied quickly.

"No, I do worry about it. You didn't-"

"Tom, seriously, don't worry."

"But-"

"Tom!" Danny sharply exclaimed, drawing an uncomfortable end to their conversation. Tom bit his lip in concern: him and Danny had never had cause for a single sharp word to each other before.

* * *

Christmas seemed to be hurtling towards them, and after that day, they never did have cause for a sharp word again. They seemed to _fit _each other so well, it was amazing.

"We should go Christmas present shopping together." Tom suggested one day, in the midst of a long cuddling session. Danny smiled.

"Good idea, love."

"We could go together for family and other friends, split off to get presents for each other and then meet up again to have a Starbucks." suggested Tom, wrapping his arms further around his boyfriend.

"Sounds perfect. When ya thinkin'?" Even after the several months together, Danny's strong Bolton always made Tom smile widely.

"We can go on the first day of the holidays if you want – christ, that's the day after tomorrow!"

Danny nodded, before twisting around from his position in Tom's lap and kissing him.

* * *

Tom was torn over what to get for Danny, gorgeous, stupid, beautiful, funny Danny. He could get something with a humour value – he was strongly tempted to give him one of the advertising posters from his stint on Oliver, starring a photograph of Tom aged 10, made up to look like Oliver and dressed in a little brown waistcoat and flatcap – or something with sentiment behind it. Sighing, Tom decided he would have to think more about it before he came to a conclusion on Danny's gift.

"Tom?" a voice called. Tom turned around to see Giovanna Falcone, the pretty girl in his year that he had once admired.

"Hi, Gi."

"Hey, Tom."

She smiled at him, and as she did, a flake of snow fluttered down from the darkening sky and landed on the tip of her nose. She giggled, causing him to laugh – and soon the two were spluttering against each other.

"We should hang out more." Gi managed to say, once the laughter had dissolved a little.

"Agreed." Tom grinned at her, then headed off to the Starbucks where he and Danny were re-meeting.

* * *

Sitting in Starbucks, the two lovestruck teens wrapped their hands around their mugs of hot chocolate and stared out at the flurries of snow that had suddenly appeared. In the time it had taken for them to get drinks and find a table, the sky had blackened as if a pot of ink had splashed across it and snow had already started to pile up on the roads and pavements. If it carried on at this rate, they'd have a white Christmas.

Danny needed to tell Tom.

He needed to tell Tom right then and there, in that perfect, cold, Christmassey moment.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I love you."

Tom turned to face Danny and laughed his gentle, sweet laugh. "I love you too, Danny. I love you so freaking much."

In that moment, Danny felt as if gravity had been suspended. He was floating, and nothing as insignificant as Physics was going to pin him down.

* * *

"The bus has been cancelled." Tom told Danny when they arrived at the stop. A very damp piece of paper was stuck to the stop, telling them as much.

"Shit. Do you have a mobile?"

"Not on me, no."

"Fuck, me neither..."

"The shops are all closing now – none of them will have phones that we can use." Tom bit his lip as he tried to weigh up their options: laden with heavy bags of presents, no access to a phone and very little money left.

"Looks like we'll have to walk it." Danny said reasonably.

"Seven miles."

"Yeah."

"In the snow."

"Yeah."

"Laden with three thousand and one bags?"

"Maybe that wasn't my brightest idea." Danny admitted.

"There must be a payphone somewhere." Tom reasoned.

"Nope – I did this last year and had to walk home."

"Shitting shit shit."

Danny sat down inside the little bus station, encouraging Tom down beside him.

"We can wait here until either a search party or one of our mother's finds us." Danny firmly told Tom, grabbing his hand and pulling him close.

* * *

"Hello, Mrs Fletcher?"

"Hello! Is that Danny's mum?"

"Yeah! Have you seen the lads?"

"No – I was just going to ring you and ask the same thing. Tom doesn't have his mobile on him, and the shops will be just closing now...does Danny have a phone on him?"

"No, he doesn't...do you want me to go and have a little shifty around for them?"

"If it's not too much of a liberty, can you come and get me to go with you? Two sets of eyes are better than one."

Twenty minutes later, the two women, accompanied by flasks of tea, were sat in Danny's mum's car, driving slowly around the slow covered roads.

* * *

When Tom and Danny were finally discovered, it was nearing eleven at night and both women were growing increasingly concerned. The tea was cooling rapidly, with no signs of their sons.

"There! In that bus shelter!" Mrs Fletcher suddenly said, causing the car to screech to a halt. They exited the car swiftly, to see their sons fast asleep against each other in the bus shelter, Danny's head resting on Tom's shoulder and their feet muddled together in a big heap. None so gently they were woken, hugged and then scolded for leaving their phones behind.

"Get in the car, you irresponsible boys. There's some tea waiting for you!"

Sleepily, the two did so, and gratefully drank the lukewarm tea. The heating seemed like heaven to their stiff, frozen forms.

"Mum?"

"Yes, Danny?"

"Can Tom stay over tonight?"

"Why don't you ask his mum? She's right here, silly sausage."

It was confirmed that Tom could stay over, and after dropping Mrs Fletcher home (she gave Tom about a hundred kisses before being satisfied that he was okay) they drove straight over to Danny's house. Tom borrowed some of Danny's pyjamas (which just about fitted him, seeing as Danny was naturally quite small and extremely skinny, while Tom was a little bit more rounded and rather a bit taller, despite Danny's more recent growth spurts) and, cuddled in each other's arms, the two fell straight asleep in Danny's bed, relishing the warmth of each other's forms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Obviously, I don't own the lyrics to 'The Winner Takes It All' by ABBA or 'Where Is Love?' from the 'Oliver!' soundtrack. I was listening to the McFly cover while writing this entire story, and the lyrics made me think. Oh, and beware of feels in this chapter! Very very feely chapter!**

* * *

Snow was still fluttering down in regular flurries by Christmas Day, so much so that drifts two foot tall lay naturally on some pavements and roads, and every surface regularly trodden was a deathtrap. Danny and Tom had not yet chance to exchange presents, having only talked on MSN since the wonderful afternoon of shopping and perfect night together. In bed, they did nothing but cuddle and kiss a few times, but it was still absolutely fantastic for both of them.

'_Do you wanna meet later? Exchange gifts?' _Tom typed, smiling as he thought of his present.

'_Yes, sure :D Wht time?'_

_'Ten? By the playpark near school?'_

_'Sure xxx'_

_'Love you xxx'_

_'Love you too, Tom xxx'_

Tom quickly informed his parents that at ten that night he was nipping out to swap presents with Danny, who accepted this with good grace and knowing smiles: they both liked Danny a lot, and fully supported the relationship that he had with their son. Smiling, Tom set aside thoughts of Danny and flung himself head-first into Christmas.

* * *

Danny was equally as excited to see Tom: he had the _perfect _present, and he knew that Tom would appreciate the true meaning of it.

"You're getting him that?" his sister had exclaimed upon seeing it. "Are you sure?!"

Danny had nodded resolutely. In town, there was a man who did caricatures for £10. Danny had handed him his mobile, ready loaded with a picture of him and Tom, as well as the instructions for a few things to add in. The caricature was perfect: Tom and Danny holding hands while sat at a bus stop, a guitar resting against Tom's knees and in the background the corner shop where they had first kissed. Danny had carefully written on the back,

'_To the light in my darkness, the blanket in my snow, the dream to my nightmare. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, Tom. I love you. Here's to many more Christmasses xxx'_

In the bag, he had also put a few little things which he guessed would make Tom smile: a whole packet of specially ordered plectrums bearing a pair of linked hands, a packet of bright pink guitar strings (which Tom had once picked up in the music shop in town, done and twirl and asked if he was fabulous yet) and one of the flasks that had held tea on the evening that they were nearly snowed into town. It was perfect.

* * *

"I was in your arms  
Thinking I belonged there  
I figured it made sense  
Building me a fence  
Building me a home  
Thinking I'd be strong there  
But I was a fool  
Playing by the rules..."

Tom's voice rang out in the tiny, snow coated playpark as he sang alone, awaiting Danny's presence. A gift bag sat beside him on the bench, swathed in plastic bags just in case it snowed again or one of them was clumsy enough to drop it. When Tom was bored, he liked to sing, his voice ringing out pure and sweet. Along with his present, he had a little surprise for Danny which he hoped would make the boy either laugh or cry. He considered singing 'The Winner Takes It All' a good warm up for that.

"Hey."

Tom looked up and saw the familiar brunet boy walking towards him, laden with a bright purple gift bag.

"Danny – I've missed you so much!" Tom leapt up and in one swift moment had Danny in his arms, the younger boy's warmth seeping into Tom himself.

"I've missed you too!" Danny replied, before kissing Tom. Passionately, they kissed for a few moments, before breaking away from each other.

"God, I love you." Tom said slowly, brushing some hair away from Danny's eyes and allowing himself to get lost in their warm depths.

"I love ya too."

There they stood for time: neither knew how long. It could have been moments, it could have been hours. They felt endless.

"Present time!" Danny suddenly brightly said, pulling away and sitting down on one of the snowy benches with an unearthly thud.

* * *

In the strange, iridescent light available in the nights of snowy days, the two boys shared gifts, Danny first. Tom's brown eyes shone with tears when he saw the caricature, but he bellowed with laughter at the guitar strings and promised to put them on as soon as possible. However, he started to cry almost immediately again when he noticed the plectrums.

"Oh, Dan..."

Danny wrapped one arm tightly around Tom.

"Open mine, now." Tom said, brushing away his tears and handing the bag to Danny.

"Blimey, mate, you bagged it well." Danny said sarcastically as he stripped the five-six-_seven _plastic bags from the gift bag. He felt inside and pulled something out – and then immediately broke down with laughter. It was a poster from Tom's time starring in 'Oliver!', signed by both ten year old Tom and fifteen year old Tom. Danny noticed with satisfaction that Tom's eyes hadn't changed, two never-ending pools.

"Since I'm YOUR Oliver..." Tom murmured, winking at Danny. Danny chuckled, and then reached into the bag once more. A little book emerged.

"Open it." Tom instructed, and when Danny did he felt his heart melt. A photograph of himself as a baby, accompanied by one of what must be Tom as a baby. In swirling gold pen, the sentence,

'_In two separate ends of the country, two boys were born a year apart.'_

Turning the page, there was a photograph of Tom aged about ten or eleven, on stage as Oliver. Danny's photograph was him with his first proper guitar, a red and white nylon-stringed thing from Argos.

'_Both took interest in music...in very different ways. One pranced around on stage while the other learnt how to play hard rock on the guitar.'_

Tears started to roll down Danny's cheeks as he turned the next page. His Year 7 school photo, and Tom's Year 8 one.

'_Aged 11 and 12, they met for the first time at school after the younger of the boys moved up to London...nothing happened, but the spark was ignited.'_

The page turned, and their most recent school pictures.

_'Finally, aged 14 and 15, they met at school properly. And so, the guitar playing Boltoner and the singing Londoner fell in love. To be continued...'_

Danny glanced up, ready to thank Tom profusely, when he realised he was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Where is love?  
Does it fall from skies above?  
Is it underneath the willow tree  
That I've been dream of?  
Where is he?  
Who I close my eyes to see?  
Will I ever know the sweet "hello"  
That's only meant for me?  
Who can say where he may hide?  
Must I travel far and wide?  
'Til I am bedside the someone who  
I can mean somethin to ...  
Where...?  
Where is love?

Who can say where...he may hide?  
Must I travel...far and wide?  
'Til I am beside...the someone who  
I can mean...something to...  
Where?  
Where is love?"

The song poured out from Tom's lips as he stood atop the frame for the slide, having slipped away while Danny cried over the book. Danny watched quietly, letting the hot tears spurt down his freckled cheeks as he listened to his boyfriend's beautiful voice.

"I love you, Danny..." Tom choked after he had finished singing. Danny began to run, right up the snowy steps and to Tom, almost knocking him over with the force of his hug.

"I love you so so so much, Tom." Danny gabbled, kissing Tom. He pulled him to sitting with a bump, and for a long time the two lay in the snow and frost, holding each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: implied self harm, possible graphic, don't worry! I mean, it didn't trigger me at all. Just a mention, not vital to plot, just a mention.**

* * *

_Good things never last, _Tom miserably thought as he jammed out on his guitar, hitting the strings roughly with his fingers, producing a rough sound far from his usual clean chords. Violently, he tried to keep his mind away from the previous day. The vicious argument...the punch which had sunk straight into his jaw. A shadowy bruise was in its place today, looking dirty against the uniform white of Tom's skin.

"Tom?"

Tom looked up and saw Harry standing at the door of his bedroom.

"Dougie told me what happened...I want you to know, we're both on your side of this argument. Your mum let me in – I think she's guessed that something bad has happened."

Tom hated himself when he felt the first tear hit his cheek. He suddenly sat with a drop on his bed.

"Where did it all go wrong?" he quietly asked Harry, sounding very much like a small child. Harry sat beside him and put an arm gently around him.

"Dougie'll be over in a bit. Don't worry, Tom. You'll be okay."

In his heart of hearts, Tom couldn't make himself believe Harry.

* * *

It was late March when it happened. The two had been going fine – rarely a contrary word, always ready with hugs, kisses and smiles for each other. They had even discussed how they'd work for the year when Tom was at college and Danny at school, and then the year when Tom would be at Uni or work and Danny at college.

Then Tom had asked.

"Danny, will I ever meet your dad?" he'd asked, smiling. He'd met Danny's cousins, aunts and various other relatives, but never his dad. He knew that Danny's dad was still at home, so he didn't really understand it.

"Shut up." Danny had immediately replied.

"I just asked if-"

"I said shut up!" Danny forcefully responded.

"Dan, you're being-"

"Shut the fuck up, Tom!"

Tom had stared at Danny, shocked at this rare show of temper. "Calm down, Danny."

"Stop fucking _talking_!" Danny's face had gone red.

"Dude, what have I done wrong?" Tom was completely confused. He was even more so when Danny's fist flew out and hit him squarely in the jaw, so hard that Tom's eyes watered.

"Piss off, Tom, you posh knob." Danny had spat, and this time Tom was wise enough to obey him. Five minutes later, he was bawling on the phone to Dougie.

* * *

After a little while, Dougie appeared, and he sat down on Tom's bed with his two friends.

"Tom, I think I should tell you something." Dougie carefully started.

"What?" Tom miserably asked. "Has Dan said anything?"

"No, it's stuff that I already know, from my dad...Danny's dad, I think he might be a bit of a dick. My dad sees him down the pub whenever he goes down, I asked him. Plus, my cousin is friends with Danny's sister, and she says that in the last five years, she's seen the man once. Apparently, he's always out drinking or with his mates. I think Danny might be a bit sensitive about it." Dougie told Tom.

Tom winced. "Oh god, why was I so insensitive..."

"Dude, you didn't know!" Harry immediately said. "I mean, _I _didn't know and Dan's been my best friend since we were eleven, for fuck's sake! Don't go blaming yourself!"

Sighing, Tom shook his head. "What if it's over for me and Danny, just because I didn't shut up?"

Dougie suddenly turned to the side and pinned Tom down on the bed. "When will you get it into your thick skull that IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT?" he shouted. Tom stared up at him, shellshocked...but a weak smile broke across his face.

"You can move now, Doug."

"Not until you say that it's not your fault." Dougie insisted, pressing down harder on Tom's pinned hands. There was silence for a few moments until Harry leaned over and began to tickle Tom mercilessly.

"Please...stop!" Tom felt the overwhelming urge to laugh as the tickling, but resisted.

"Not until you say it!" Dougie told him again.

"Fine! It's not my fault!"

Harry stopped tickling and Dougie finally crawled off of Tom, allowing him up.

"What are we going to do, then?" Dougie asked.

* * *

"Can I see Danny, please?" Dougie asked, looking up at Danny's mum from the doorway. Being thirteen, and not particularly tall, most people let Dougie do whatever he wanted. He was small, soft and could look completely innocent and adorable when he wanted to.

"Yeah...he's in an awful mood though, watch out for him."

"Thank you!"

Dougie gave her a beaming smile (carefully choreographed, of course) before entering the house and running upstairs to where Danny's room was. Without knocking, he entered. Danny was lying on his bed, crying.

"I heard what happened." Dougie softly said, ever the actor. Danny looked up as the door was gently shut.

"I hate myself." Danny limply said.

"Dude, it's not that bad."

"It is. I fucked it all up, just like I always do."

Dougie couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Danny in that moment: before then, his sympathy had been reserved for Tom only. However, seeing Danny so pale and lonely really hit him hard – he was nothing compared to the usual bright, bouncy Boltoner.

"It'll be fine, Dan. I haven't spoken to Tom yet – Harry has, he went over to see him." Dougie said, back into his role once more.

"I bet he hates me now."

Dougie sat down on the end of Danny's bed and glanced at the boy, suddenly noticing something he hadn't noticed before – several thin, red stains of blood on Danny's white shirt sleeve.

"Oh, Dan..." Dougie murmured, and this time his sympathy wasn't an act.

* * *

"He regrets it." Dougie reported back to Tom and Harry later that day. "He _really _regrets it. Trust me, no one could act that well."

"It's not too late to put it right." Harry told Tom. "We're going to sort this out, I promise you."

Tom's fingers reached up and touched the bruise on his jaw, which had bloomed to a full, dark, warm bruise, full of pain and regret. "I wish I could see him right now. I need to see him."

Tom suddenly stood up. "I know where he is. I need to go and see him."

"Isn't it a bit soon?" Harry questioned, standing up and rubbing Tom's back soothingly.

"I need to see him. If he's so regretful, I need to see it for myself."

In people like Tom, grief can quickly turn to power, as it did in that instance. Tom's stance was erect and tall, and his back straight. He stood like a proud lion, ready to fight.

"Why are you so sure where he is?" Dougie asked. Tom smiled.

"Because it's where I'd go."


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey."

"Hey."

Danny barely glanced up from the floor at the sound of Tom's voice, merely replied with an unsteady voice. Pulling himself together, Tom sat down beside Danny, leaving a comfortable gap between them. The playpark. Tom had been right. There Danny had gone, and there he was, sat on the roundabout, slowly being dragged around.

"I'm sorry." Danny quietly said.

"I know." Tom replied.

"What I said...I was awful. I was a horrible, horrible person." Danny's hand came upwards and he roughly wiped his eyes.

"You weren't a horrible person. You just said horrible things."

The matter-of-fact way of their conversation hurt both of them more than they ever would have imagined. Suddenly, Tom was filled with a thought: what if he never got to hold Danny again? What if he could never kiss those lips? What if he'd never hold that hand? What if he'd never hear that laugh?

"I forgive you, you know. Dougie told me about your dad."

For the first time, Danny looked up, but suddenly withdrew. "Did...did I do that to your jaw?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, god, Tom, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." A tear rolled down Danny's own, unsullied cheek.

"You know, I don't think I could cope with losing you." Tom told Danny, his voice a lot more conversational than before, somehow warmer.

"I couldn't lose ya." Danny sniffed.

"I think we should give this another try, sort it all out. Talk about our problems instead of suppressing them." Tom suggested, his fingers straying out to the gap between them. Danny's fingers soon joined them, and after a moment they were holding hands.

"I love you, Danny, but you're an idiot, you know that?" Tom gave Danny a weak smile. Danny laughed.

"That's rich, coming from bruise-face."

Laughter spilled out of them like it never had before.

* * *

After that, things were a little better. They took time to heal – as was to be expected – but it got better. Whenever things turned a little sour, Danny would get the book that Tom had made for him and they'd read it together, smiling at Tom's gold script running cleanly over the creamy yellow paper, and the photographs of their younger selves. When Tom applied for Busted, Danny supported him totally. Later, when the blonde was searching for a songwriting partner, Danny went through the same process as everyone else, but still came out on top and won the spot. The same happened with Dougie and Harry – their luck was fairly unbelievable. Perhaps their new managers, Fletch and Rashman, saw the chemistry between them and didn't quite believe the lie that they had never met before. Everything went hunky dory...until Tom decided to meet up with Giovanna for coffee, late in 2003.

* * *

"So, I heard you're in a band?" Gi asked, smiling, before taking a sip from the mug of herbal tea in front of her.

"Yeah! We're signed to Universal – called McFly."

Gi laughed. "After the Back To the Future character?"

Tom nodded. "Danny had _never _seen it! Me and James made him watch it with us, and thank god he loved it." At the mention of Danny, an emotion seemed to cross Gi's eyes. Tom couldn't quite read it.

"Wow, how had he never seen it? It's a classic!" she replied, taking another sip from her drink.

"Exactly! I've got to get him to watch the sequels, next. Anyway, how's your boyfriend?"

The same emotion in the same eyes. "We broke up. He said that I was too stuck on someone from my past."

"Who?" Tom asked, eager for gossip. "You always liked Martin..."

"Oh, Tom." she smiled, before draining her cup. "You really don't know, do you?"

He shook his head, confused.

"It's you." she softly told him, placing her cup down and standing up. "It was always you."

As she left the little café, Tom bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

* * *

Tom couldn't shake the sad, yet accepting expression on Gi's face as she walked away from his mind. The way her back was bent as she walked. How disheartened she had seemed in his presence.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you do if you knew you were upsetting someone by doing something, but you definitely can't stop doing the thing because it's good for you and for someone else?"

Danny stopped fiddling with his guitar for a moment and looked at Tom. "I really don't know. That's difficult."

"I know! Exactly!" Tom replied.

Danny shook his head. "Stick with what you're doing, I'd say. As long as it's not something bad, stick with what you're doing."

Tom smiled at his long-term partner, wishing it was that easy.

* * *

"Doug, can I talk?" Tom asked, popping his head around the door to his youngest friend's room. Dougie glanced up from his phone and nodded, quickly turning it off.

"What's up?" Dougie asked, shuffling over so that Tom could sit down on his bed. Although Dougie and Harry were still together, just as Tom and Danny were, their management wouldn't let them share rooms with their partner because of the stupid 'house tour' interviews that were bound to pop up. However, traces of their respective partners lingered in each other's rooms: Tom noticed that a pair of Harry's boxers (they were incredibly small and also leopard print, and they _had_ to be Harry's) on the floor.

Tom decided to cut straight to the chase. "You remember Giovanna?"

Dougie nodded.

"Well, I met up with her yesterday because we hadn't seen each other in ages. She...she told me that she loves me."

"Okay." Dougie watched Tom for a moment before asking, "How do you feel?"

"Well...I love Danny. Obviously. He's been there for me through all the good times and the bad. But...ugh, I don't know how to bloody word it!" Tom managed to get out. "I think...I remember when I was like thirteen, I had an absolutely massive crush on Gi. She was fit, sure, but she was really clever and funny as well. I think that crush just came back again yesterday."

Dougie bit his lip uncertainly. "Would it help to see her again?"

Tom shook his head violently. "I think seeing her would be the exact opposite of what I need."

"Dude, just remember that now I'm only the age that you were when you and Danny got together. I don't really know what you need to do. Harry might have an idea – he went out with like a billion girls (and boys) before we got together)."

Tom nodded, stood up and evacuated the room, trying not to cry.

* * *

"I think you need to meet up with Gi again and see how you feel. Not now, though – in a few months. See if you still _like _her." Harry advised, after Tom had poured out his sorry tale. Tom stared at him.

"Why the _fuck _didn't I think of that?" Tom exclaimed, hitting himself in the head.

"I'm still surprised that you went to Dougie for advice. Remember, Tom – we're the two with a brain." Harry said with a wink, making Tom laugh.

"I'm still not over the fact that Danny thought that eggs were vegetables." Tom replied. As the two began to recount tales of their lover's idiotic moments, they were soon doubled over with laughter.

"T-thanks for y-your help, Haz." Tom managed to choke out, doubled over with laughter. "I-I needed i-it..."

"No problem, mate..." Harry dissolved into giggles. Danny and Dougie, who were watching 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' in the living room (which was directly beneath Harry's room) wondered what on earth had made their boyfriends go completely insane.


	9. Chapter 9

"We need to talk, Danny." Tom quietly said to his boyfriend one day. The two were sat beside each other in the living room. Dougie and Harry were off recording the bass and drums for one of the songs on their album ('Down by the Lake', a song which they all liked a lot but saw as more of a filler track than anything else) and so Tom and Danny were completely alone. Tom pressed the off button on the TV.

"What's up, Tom?" Danny asked, with a cheerful grin.

"You're my best friend and that will always, _always _be the case, but we need to break up."

In that moment, Tom saw the light flicker out of Danny's eyes. His head dropped a little and Tom noticed immediately that the younger boy began to twist his fingers together, a nervous tic which Tom himself had. He sat there silently, and Tom realised he was too dumbstruck to ask questions.

"It isn't your fault – it is mine." Tom told him. "I met up with Gi for coffee again and...I think I love her, Danny. My mum once told me that if you ever cheat or get close to cheating, you have to stick with the person you cheated with because if you'd been truly in love with the first person at that time, you wouldn't have fallen in love with the second."

Danny gulped, before quietly saying, "Tom, you're a dick."

This was not what Tom was expecting.

"You're a big, posh, stupid dick."

Not at all.

"You fucking _bastard_. We've been together since I was _fourteen_, for christ's sake. You can't just decide you're in love with Gi after having a bloody coffee with her!"

Oh shit.

"I'm going out."

Danny stood up speedily and marched straight out of the front door, leaving Tom alone in the huge house.

* * *

"I broke up with Danny." Tom dully said when Harry and Dougie got in. He was immediately pulled into two pairs of arms and hugged to within an inch of his life. Although the guys all got on extremely well together, they knew just how emotionally unstable Tom could be and always went to him first after some tragedy (like when his cat died, or when the goldfish that him and Danny tried to keep died after four days).

"How did he take it?" Harry asked.

"Not well at _all_." Tom admitted, biting his lip and nibbling hard. "He called me a big, posh, stupid dick and left."

"Well, it is his first proper break up." Dougie pointed out, scratching his head as he spoke as if deep in thought. "I mean, it's like if Harry were to break up with me (don't worry Haz, I know that you won't). I was twelve when we got together – I have literally never been with anyone except for Harry, and I expect Danny barely was either. He doesn't know how to handle the emotions."

"I need to go and see Gi." Tom suddenly said, and within moments he too was gone, Dougie's words ringing in his ears.

* * *

Danny was going to get laid. And not anally, either – he was gonna have straight sex for the first time in his life, penis-in-vagina.

"Um, hi. How do I, um..."

"How do you get one of the girls? Hand over £50 right now and I'll set you up with a girl and a cubicle."

Danny looked nervously around the 'Private Building' which a mate of his had strongly advised a year or so ago. Fishing in his pocket, he produced a credit card.

"No no – cash only."

"I don't have £50 cash."

"How old are you, anyway? We only serve 18+."

"I'm sev-eighteen." Danny stuttered, instantly blushing.

"Go home, little boy, and get some porn."

Red cheeked, Danny stumbled out of the building. He'd have to find a chick somewhere else. Swinging wildly around, he saw a club. Perfect.

* * *

Heterosexual sex didn't live up to Danny's expectations, especially considering it was with a weirdly bony chick who _squeaked _when she saw his penis. He left quickly after they were done, feeling oddly as if he had betrayed Tom. Thinking of Tom brought a whole rush of emotions upon him, and as he leant against a wall to steady himself, he began to cry. The tears swelled in his eyes and escaped, fluttering endlessly down his freckled cheeks as they went.

"Hey, you okay mate?" someone asked. Danny turned, sniffling, to see a man of about his own age with bulging muscles, smooth red hair and a cheeky grin which would have sent Danny melting in any other circumstance. He looked vaguely familiar, but perhaps with his physique he was a model for magazines or something. It all likelyhood, Danny's watery eyes were skewing his vision.

"I'm alright." Danny replied, his Bolton accent becoming stronger as it always did when he was upset.

"You don't look it." the guy said. He smiled at Danny, resting a hand lightly on his back. "What you need is a cup of tea and a chat."

Danny laughed, a sad smile spreading across his face. "Why are you even bothering?"

The man looked surprised. "Don't you remember me, Danny?"

In that moment, Danny's world fell apart.

* * *

_A tiny, freckled boy with a mop of red hair sat down with a bump beside Danny in the small playground. It was filled with kids aged from tiny 3 year old nursery kids to seemingly huge 11 year old Year 6's. Lots stood in gaggles, chatting, while others played games in the limited space available like cricket or football._

"_Hello!"_

_Danny looked up, tears dribbling down his cheeks: he'd wanted to play football with the big boys in Year 6 but they hadn't wanted a little four year old Reception kid like him._

"_You look sad – why are you sad? My sister was sad when our hamster died, but I only cried a little bit. She cried and cried and cried, like you. Did all your hamsters die?"_

"_I don't have any hamsters." Danny glumly replied, adding it to the list in his head of reasons why his life was bad._

"_Do you want a lolly? Mum gave me two, and I normally eat both, but I'm not hungry today." The boy suddenly wrapped his arms around Danny and hugged him tight for a second before letting go and pulling out two lollies from his pocket._

_Danny looked up, smiling, and accepted a lolly. It was green, and upon tasting, it was sour apple flavour. His favourite._

"_What's your name?" Danny asked the boy._

"_I'm Jack, and I'm in your class!"_

"_I'm Danny."_

* * *

"_Jack, I'm gonna miss you so much." The brown haired eleven year old grabbed the ginger boy beside him into a tight hug._

"_Danny, you make sure you call me when you get there so that I have your number." Jack firmly instructed, burying his head into Danny's chest._

"_I will, don't worry."_

_Danny was busy for the first week, he forgot by the second. He made new friends, specifically a Mr Harry Judd, and soon he didn't feel comfortable with the idea of calling Jack. Jack was forgotten. Jack was a memory stored amongst thousands in the rather faulty filing system that was Danny's brain._

* * *

"Jack..." Danny whispered, a million childhood memories flashing through his mind.

"Hey, Dan. You never did call me, mate."

"I'm sorry. I...I was a dick. I still am. My boyfriend just broke up with me, Jack, I aint gonna go through the reasons I didn't call ya when I was eleven."

Jack laughed. "Listen, come with me. My flat's just up the road – you can crash for the night if you don't want to see your ex."

As Danny thought about the boy he had always assumed would hate him for his carelessness and abandonment, he nodded. Friendship was reaffirmed after six years.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mentions of suicide, possible trigger. I can only apologize for the _intense _feels in the final chapters of this story!**

* * *

"So, guys...you're young, you're famous, you're in a band...you _must _be in relationships." the fake-tanned interviewer smiled falsely at them before glancing at the clock behind the camera: four minutes of interview time left. If she stretched this one out, she could make it the last.

"Well...I was until recently." Danny said with a sad little smile. "We're still best mates, though."

Just for a second, his eyes flickered to Tom and they had a second of eye contact, which made both feel a painful stab to their heart. Danny's was grief, while Tom's was a bitter mixture of regret and sadness that lay heavy upon him.

"I'm very clearly in love with Harry." Dougie grinned, in a tone that was joking so that the viewers wouldn't take it seriously. The others guys all laughed because they knew just how true it was. When the squashy blue sofa hadn't been quite big enough for four, Dougie had thrown himself onto Harry's lap, spreading his legs across Tom and Danny who had been forced to sit beside each other by their press organiser. Now, Harry had one hand resting lightly on Dougie's stomach and the other was strewn across the younger boy's groin. Harry knew just how hot gentle, fleeting touches got his boyfriend, and he was absolutely certain he would pay for it later with his arse. All the more reason to occasionally stretch out his palm and feel the semi-hardness beneath the rough fabric.

"I've got a girlfriend." Tom confirmed, a smile breaking out across his pale face. "She's pretty amazing. We only got together six months ago, though – it was just after a really bad breakup, and I still feel pretty bad about it."

Again, Tom and Danny held eye contact for just a second, and as they did, Danny felt his heart tear in two once more. Sometimes, Danny felt like he would be okay. He would wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and invigorated, singing the same line over and over again, '_We don't care!'. _However, little things like a certain look from Tom or a joke from the blonde which made him laugh until he cried would set him tumbling down the path of depression, and he would go to bed that night with a heavy heart and either his MP3 player or a razor, depending on how bad it got.

* * *

The night with Jack hadn't exactly gone to plan. From his chiselled, well-to-do appearance, Danny was expecting some beautifully polished flat with a high-ceilinged white bathroom and a crisp, co-ordinated spare room.. It was crude shock to enter the actual flat. It was minute, with peeling green wallpaper smudged with mould. The floor was bare wood, and in some places there were evident piles of mouse droppings which sent Danny's gag reflex off something terrible. In the main room, there was a straight-backed wooden chair and a TV, along with a microwave and a large box which was filled with cans of food and beer. Jack's bedroom had a mattress, a pile of clothes and a duvet, with the window being so filthy that you could barely see out of it.

"Sorry, it's all a bit of a mess. I haven't tidied up in a day or two." Jack said apologetically.

"Um, where's ya loo?" Danny asked, biting his lip. Jack grinned.

"Need a slash? Loo's through that door."

Danny glanced out and after a moment spotted the door, which had a hole in it and was crusted with some kind of orange fluid which he didn't want to think about. He dashed in – and then gagged as he closed the door.

It was absolutely pitiful. There was a toilet and a sink (Danny noted that there was no shower or bath, meaning that Jack probably had to wash at the sink. He didn't want to comprehend the alternative). The sink was full of cloudy water and short red hairs – facial or...Danny gagged again, vomit rising intolerably in his throat. The mirror on the wall was cracked and splattered with a white fluid that Danny could identify instantly. The toilet itself was almost indescribable. The white bowl was covered in brown smears and stains, and the water itself was a coppery colour with evident lumps floating in it and more of the foul white fluid. The seat was spattered with droplets of urine. Danny glanced around for loo paper – there was none. Gingerly, he flushed the loo, waited a moment and then left the squalid little room, trying to hold back his disgust.

* * *

"You can crash on my bed, if you want. I'll sleep in the living room." Jack offered with a smile. He picked up the duvet and shook it, not seeming concerned by the volume of wrappers and crumbs that fell out.

"Thanks mate." Danny said. As soon as Jack closed the door, Danny sat on the floor, avoiding the little piles of rodent crap and the unidentifiable stains. It was about midnight. He would have to stay until at least seven so as to avoid appearing rude. While he was exhausted after the emotionally draining day, there was no way he was sleeping in that shit pit. An overwhelming longing for Tom overcame him.

"Tom..." he murmured, and the tears began to fall down his freckled cheeks like they never had before.

* * *

Danny must have fallen asleep that dreadful night because he was suddenly awoken by the sounds of shouting and banging against the main door to the flat. The door to the bedroom slammed open and Jack looked desperate.

"Get out the window! It's the police!"

Sleepily, Danny followed Jack to the window, panic beginning to rise in him. Outside, there were metal rungs poking out of the wall all the way to the ground. Jack climbed down onto the window ledge and scaled his way down easily, Danny hot on his tail as they escaped. Needless to say, Danny didn't see Jack again.

* * *

Tom sat with Gi cuddled in his arms, her form close to his own, their bodies intertwined. Gi looked blissfully happy as the feeling of Tom's soft body overwhelmed her; Tom looked slightly put off. Even six months after he had ended it with Danny, every time he held Gi close or vice verse, a million memories filled his mind of little moments with Danny: their first kiss outside of the corner shop, getting caught making out behind the changing rooms and being given detentions, the time Danny had turned up at his house in a slightly oversized suit with a bunch of scarlet roses and a picnic basket...so many memories that were painful. The bad memories were actually less painful than the good: the good made him feel a twinge of regret as he realised and re-realised that he would never hold the boy in his arms, while the bad reassured him he had made the right decision.

"I love you..." Gi murmured for the first time in their six seemingly never-ending months. Tom jumped.

"I, um...you too!" he replied, biting his lip. That was pathetic. Gi twisted and looked up at him, brown eyes wide.

"You know, I'm proud of you." she told him, tracing one arm down his side and to his thigh, sending an involuntary shiver of pleasure through him. He despised the fact that Giovanna aroused him. He couldn't stand sleeping with her, and once or twice he had very almost murmured, '_Danny...' _as they did it.

"Why?" he replied, surprised. He was expecting a comment about his lame reply.

"McFly...the band...carrying on even though your ex was the other frontman."

Tom managed a weak smile. "Thanks, love."

Suddenly, the door to Tom's bandhouse bedroom opened. There stood sixteen year old Dougie, looking absolutely terrified. "Tom, come quick. Danny's passed out or something in his bedroom."

* * *

Tom couldn't help but notice just how tiny and pale Danny looked as he lay in the vast white hospital bed. His dark hair, usually straightened, sprang in curls across the pillow. His lips were almost blue, which Tom found so disturbing he could barely stand to look at Danny. Two tubes were connected to one arm, and while the emergency treatment was now done, a nurse still came and checked on him every ten minutes or so, frowning as he scribbled on his clipboard.

"C'mon, Dan..." murmured Dougie. He was sat on one side of Danny, Tom on the other. Both were calling Harry on five minute intervals, trying to get hold of him. James Bourne was also on his way, a good friend of them all.

Tom was in floods of tears.

After a couple of quick tests, it was determined that Danny had taken sleeping pills.

Twelve of them.

Washed down with vodka.

There was no note, no hint of why he had done it, no hint of what had triggered it.

* * *

Danny was trapped: trapped within a cold body lying on something unfamiliar but soft. Darkness surrounded him, and when he tried to talk, he was unable to. He could hear and smell, though: the crisp cottony smell of the surface beneath him, the stench of bleach. Another smell, warmer and a lot more comforting.

"Please, Danny, wake up..." a voice begged, a voice so startlingly heartbroken that Danny felt his body react: it jerked without him asking it to, before resting once more.

"Oh Dan..."

For hours, Danny was forced through this torture: stuck in a seemingly dead body, listening to Tom's sobs. Occasionally, the voice of Dougie or Harry broke through, each one choked up and gaspy. After what felt like days, the voices of two of the bandmates faded away and only Tom remained. Of course. The one man that had pushed Danny this far had stuck by.

"Danny, I love you. I'll always love you. Just wake up..." Tom whispered, right in his ear. "God, I love you. I thought I loved Gi, but it was always you. It'll always be you."

Out of the corner's of Danny's closed, unresponsive eyes, tears began to dribble out.


	11. Chapter 11

Tom never left Danny's side, not once. He got the other guys to bring him coffee and chocolate bars, and he did his business in the bed pans he had found in the room that were always replenished. The nurses and doctors felt sorry for him, and didn't try and disturb his pitiful actions. They thought that he was a boyfriend, or perhaps even a brother or non-identical twin. Soon, most of the staff grew to knew his name, and on one memorable occasion a nurse even recognized him from their interviews and the Busted tour.

"Is he your boyfriend?" a nurse asked him one day. Danny's family were there that day, as well as James, who was trying to coax something other than chocolate into Tom and failing utterly miserably as he held the pot of macaroni cheese and chips.

"N-no!" Tom replied, biting his lip. "He was, but I was a twat. Such a fucking twat..."

The nurse patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't forget – the doctors think that he'll wake up within a week. You'll be able to tell him all this then."

A moment after she left, Tom suddenly fainted dead away on the floor, making James scream a little and Danny's family jump up with fright. They thought of Tom as a son, no matter what had happened: they couldn't bear to have two of them in hospital.

* * *

When Tom awoke in a hospital bed, connected to a drip, he didn't hesitate to stand up and pull the drip trolley along with him straight to where Danny was. No one was there, but Danny's cheeks were pink and he looked more alive than he had in a long time.

"Sorry I left you, mate...I don't know why I did, actually."

Since Tom had only just awaken, he had absolutely no idea why he'd been in the bed. He guessed it was most likely exhaustion: he had only caught about an hour of sleep every day for just over a week. Tom sat down on his old seat, and placed his hand in Danny's once more. His Danny. He noted that during the week or so he had spent with Danny, Gi had never visited once, despite being good friends with all of the band. Glancing up at Danny's shelf, he saw his own mobile phone there. Grabbing it, he switched it on. Two texts. One from Gi, one from Dougie.

'_I can't do this. You're still committed to Danny, and it isn't fair on me at all. We're still friends, Tom, but we can never be more. G x'_

_'We know that as soon as you wake up, you'll go straight to Danny, so we grabbed your phone and put it back here. We're visiting between 3 and 6 every day, so I guess we'll see you soon. D + H xxx'_

The first text sent a wave of relief through him. He didn't have to pretend to Gi any more. He could beg Danny, if he- _when _he woke up.

The clock read 3:05.

* * *

When Harry and Dougie saw Tom sat with his drip, they informed a nurse where he was (who came over and gave Tom a telling-off that probably would have made him cry five years previously, but now just made him blush hard and look at his feet, before bringing him a plate of food and watching him while he ate the entire thing). Then, they explained that he'd fainted because his body wasn't coping very well with an overload of chocolate and coffee and a severe lack of sleep and nutrients. The drip was being changed every few hours, and Tom had to admit he felt a lot better than he had. His fingers had re-gained feeling, and his legs could stretch without pain overtaking them.

"How long was I out for?"

"A couple of days." Dougie told him. The youngest bandmate looked...different, somehow. Older. His face was pale and bags sat under his eyes. His breath always seemed to be curdled with the smell of beer or wine, as did Harry's.

"Did Danny do anything between then?"

"He opened his eyes for about ten seconds-" Harry started, only to be quickly cut off by Tom.

"Did he say anything? What happened? Is he okay?"

Harry smiled. "He said your name. That was it."

* * *

A couple more days passed, and a _very _firm nurse was assigned to Tom for 'depression and sleep related issues'. Really, she acted like more of a mother. She forced him to go to the mental health ward and to bed at ten every night, and got him up at seven every morning. She dragged him away from Danny for three square meals a day (when he flat out refused to eat, she had the same meal served to him at the next eating time, and then at the next, until he ate it). She forced him to shower every day, and to get dressed. He even attended counselling sessions for an hour a day. She was a life-saver for Tom. However, at every moment allowed, he would be beside Danny, talking to him or plugging Danny's earphones into his ears and letting him listen to his favourite songs, absolutely certain that Danny could hear them.

"Come on, Tom. Bed."

"Come on, Nurse, it's only ten." Tom said, with a cheeky little smile. She grabbed his arm firmly and pulled him into standing, wagging a finger at him in a way that simultaneously amused Tom and scared the shit out of him.

"Don't you smile at me, Thomas Michael Fletcher. It might be ten, but you know you need the sleep. Now come with me before I do something you don't like."

Tom followed her to the ward, not particularly eager to find out what she would do.

* * *

"Nurse! Danny's awake!" Harry pushed his head around the curtains around Danny's bed and called for someone, a grin cracking his face. Danny's eyes were open. He hadn't said anything yet, having only just 'woken up', but he was smiling a little. Dougie was sat on the other side of the bed. Tom was off showering, under the strict instructions of the Nurse (the previous day he had flatly refused to go with her and had found out exactly what she would do, and didn't care to repeat the experience).

A nurse clacked in in high wedges, smiling. "Good to see you, Danny. Are you hungry, thirsty?" she asked. "Of course, we need to do some tests, but you've been asleep for so long...is there anything you want?"

Danny looked up at her, eyes wide. "Tom."

* * *

Wrapped only in a towel, Tom was forced to walk down the corridors instead of sprinting by the firm hand of the Nurse on his shoulder. However, when he saw the sign for 'Coma Patients', he quickly ducked down and broke away, running straight towards Danny's little cubicle. The Nurse clucked her tongue impatiently and clomped after him a little faster, but didn't call out for him or tell him to wait for her: she had a husband at home, and a daughter and daughter-in-law, and knew just how powerful love could be. Danny was lying down, looking a little flushed, while Dougie and Harry both talked frantically. When they saw Tom enter, however, they grew silent. Tom stared at Danny, and Danny at Tom.

"I'm sorry..." Tom choked out, a tear rolling down his cheek. Danny shook his head.

"Don't be sorry, mate. I could hear ya, all the time. You never left."

Suddenly, they were both crying and holding each other tight, their bodies pressed hard against each other as they made up for the almost seven lost months.

"I love you, I love you so much..." cried Tom, pressing his face into Danny's chest.

"I love you too, Tom..."

In that moment, Tom's towel fell down.


	12. Epilogue

**I can only apologize if the fluff in this kills you entirely. This is the epilogue, so don't expect any more chapters! Special thanks for kbeto for reviewing every single chapter, and those of you that reviewed one or two chapters! :)**

* * *

Two little girls, identical in all ways but personality, flicked through the book they had found in their father's bookcase. It was rather old, with beautiful gold script writing and photographs of men that they assumed had to be their dads, but much younger. They struggled to read the writing - while they could read, neither had a particular aptitude for reading calligraphy (as most six year olds do not) and couldn't decipher the writing.

"What are you looking at?" came the voice of one of their dads as he entered his own room. Both girls jumped and one hastily shut the book, however it slipped from her lap and onto the floor, opening again.

"We just found this in the bookcase." answered the younger twin, who also happened to be the boldest. The brunet man, Danny, smiled.

"Your dad gave me that when I was fourteen and he was fifteen." Danny fondly said. He carefully shut the book and returned it to its rightful place, before picking up both girls and carrying one on each hip down the long staircase. Tom, their other father, was making pancakes, the meal they had for breakfast every single Christmas. Danny had it with ridiculous amounts of chocolate, chocolate-flavoured things and chocolate coated things, while Tom preferred a topping of fresh fruit. The girls both went with Danny, which made Tom tut and sigh but secretly smile as he chopped cherries and banana into the chocolate sauce he put on top of them all.

"The girls found ya book." Danny said, with a fond smile. Tom laughed as he flipped a pancake, deftly catching it again as he did so.

"Wow...that's from so long ago."

"Twelve years." Danny told him. "Double the age of these two!"

He plopped them down on the floor before beginning to mercilessly tickle them, making them squeal with laughter. The older twin rolled over and right into Tom's legs, which made him buckle and the large plate of pancakes in his hand go crashing to the floor, smashing.

"Danny!" Tom exclaimed, before turning to see who the assailant had been. He swiftly corrected himself, before smiling. Danny had ran straight out of the room and into the living room, where the piles of presents sat wrapped and ready to be opened. He was hiding behind the sofa.

"Shall we scare daddy?" Tom whispered to the girls, who nodded. He quickly rolled up a towel and crawled into the living room, the two girls following him silently, suppressing their childish giggles.

Tom got to the edge of the sofa and suddenly whipped the towel around the corner, spluttering with laughter when he heard a squeal of surprise and pain. He stood up, as did Danny and the girls.

"Right, Fletcher, when I catch you you're gonna be toast..." Danny laughed. Tom ran down the hall and up the stairs, with Danny hot on his heels. The girls followed, tripping over their own feet and giggling. Eventually, Danny cornered Tom and caught hold of him. He threw his husband onto the floor climbed onto his back, sitting on it and rubbing his hands down the back of the presented arse and thighs teasingly.  
"Naughty boys get punished, Mr Fletcher." Danny told him with a wicked grin, before smacking his arse five or six times. Tom squirmed, enjoying it all immensely, before Danny began to tickle his feet, right on the arch where it tickles the most.

"Are you sorry yet, Thomas?"

"Never, Daniel."

The girls came running in at that point and jumped on Tom's legs, lying right on top of him. Tom managed to roll over, and soon all four were laughing so hard they were crying.

"Merry Christmas..." Tom managed to choke out between his laughs.


End file.
